


Down on Your Knees

by marimoes



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Based on a Tumblr Post, Character Death, Gen, desperate healing, its just sad man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes
Summary: Garrett Hawke died at two in the afternoon, surrounded by his closest friends.All of which were just as bloody as he was, but none of them recognized it. For they were experiencing a pain that cannot come from any dagger or staff. One that would only worsen, tunneling deep within them for months to come.
Relationships: Anders & Varric Tethras, Anders/Male Hawke, Hawke & Isabela, Hawke & Varric Tethras
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	Down on Your Knees

Garrett Hawke died at two in the afternoon, surrounded by his closest friends. 

All of which were just as bloody as he was, but none of them recognized it. For they were experiencing a pain that cannot come from any dagger or staff. One that would only worsen, tunneling deep within them for months to come. 

He had jumped ahead of Isabela with his broadsword raised, but the shadow assassin was faster. The dagger pierced into his stomach and then straight up into his heart. It crumpled him to the ground, and left him to let out a single stifled yell of pain. Isabela took the assassin out in the second following, but the damage had already been dealt.

It was Anders' voice that was heard right after Hawke’s cry. A loud and strangled yelp of Hawke’s name came from him before everything shifted. Beneath the other’s feet, the ground shook.

With air that now felt electric, it glowed just the same as Justice did as he poured across Anders’ skin. There was no hope for the troupe after that, but none of the party even cared. Only Hawke mattered, with closed eyes and paling skin.

They moved him away from the path, sheltered within a grove of trees that hid the world away from tear soaked eyes. Hawke had been down several times before, it wasn’t new for the warrior to throw himself too hard into battle, but this felt different. 

Because it was. 

He never opened his eyes, never spoke another word, only clung shakily onto breathing. Anders was, for lack of a better word, relentless. His body was consumed in light, hands pressed hard against the bleeding chest of the man beneath him. 

Fingers curled in pain of their own, he continued. Words falling from his mouth in a murmur that likely no one, not even Hawke could hear. Whether it was a prayer or incantations, no one to this day knows. 

At two in the afternoon, Garrett Hawke died, but Anders didn’t accept it. 

His hand grasped at his bag to chug vial after vial of lyrium, trying to keep himself up as the other continued to force spell after spell from his fingertips. Justice had turned into something else within him again. Not vengeance, not that deep red that would pull fear into Varric and Isabela at times. 

No, this was new. 

It was a dark blue, like storm clouds had washed over Anders' very being. Yet when Varric looked up to the sky, it was clear. Maker, what a joke that a day this terrible could be this fair. Not when rain poured down Varric’s cheek in single streams, winding away into his collar. 

It wasn’t until Anders reached for a potion that didn’t exist did Varric step forward. It wasn’t that he was afraid of him before then. No, his natural resistance and hardheadedness put him there a long time ago. It was rather that deep within Varric, he held a hope that the kid could actually pull it off. 

But he couldn’t. No one could.

With a shaking hand, his fingers curled into the feathers atop Anders’ shoulder, and the eyes that looked back at him were empty. Not only void from light, but everything else with it. 

Anders’ lip quivered, twitching at the corner before turning back to Hawke. Dark blue fell into a lighter shade, all before disappearing entirely. The ground around Anders glowed softly, a glisten akin to morning dew, but at a far higher intensity. 

Varric didn’t need to speak, nor did Anders or Isabela. 

There was no blame pointed. No argument that begged to be made to justify why it was that he was no longer here. There was nothing at all. The Champion of Kirkwall was gone, regardless of how many people wished for this ending before.

None of them could’ve anticipated it would be this. 

Tears poured down Anders’ face, but he did not sob. He did not weep or scream, for the threat that took the man beneath his hands could still be near, and if he died here as well—Hawke would never forgive him. 

Years after, held in that secluded grove against the mountain side, flowers continue to grow wildly. Each curling and bending around the trees in order to make a harbor of their own, all to protect a corpse that refuses to rot. 

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post: A desperate cleric slamming every healing spell so hard to bring someone back to life the ground is forced to grow plants and flowers around the body.
> 
> That SUPER sucked, but I'm glad I got it down. 
> 
> Twitter: @__moes__  
> Tumblr: @noswordstyle


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